


Natasha Romanoff Might Be A Sentimentalist After All

by TheoMiller



Series: something bigger [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clothing, Demisexuality, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Natasha Romanov Has Friends (she's surprised), Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoMiller/pseuds/TheoMiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha woos Bruce and steals clothing from her friends to show affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natasha Romanoff Might Be A Sentimentalist After All

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to "Bruce Banner is Sometimes Very Clueless".

The subway tunnel collapsed. Because not even a simple ‘get the giant squid out of Manhattan before it broke anything’ mission would go right. Natasha rolled to recover from the fall, and she would have a few bone-deep bruises because of the uncertain terrain below, but she didn’t break anything, so that was a win in her book. But then she heard Bruce’s shout of surprise, the crumbling rock, and her heart stopped before pounding faster.

“Bruce?” She called, and climbed to her feet.

There was a pause. Then, “Natasha!” he called back, in his normal voice.

She hesitated, but settled on going to check on him instead of fleeing. She could handle this. Bruce hadn’t run away when they needed him at the Battle of New York. It was too dark for her to do much more than guess where the rocks were, but she picked her way over the rubble towards him.

“I think Thor got to the squid,” Bruce said as she approached.

She couldn’t see him, couldn’t check his eyes for green, or if the seams of his shirt were stretching. She fumbled at her belt, but most of the attachments were detached when she fell. His breathing was only a few feet away.

Natasha reached out with shaking hands, rested her slim fingers against Bruce’s cheeks, skimming her thumbs across his lips and the stubble on his chin. “Are you all right?” she whispered into the dark.

“Yeah,” he said roughly, and his hands closed around hers to pull them to his chest, where his heartbeat remained steady at almost exactly 90 BPM. “I’m still me, Nat. It’s okay.”

She stepped closer, because the tunnel was cold and he was warm, and the cold would leech her strength. Except that sounded like bullshit to her ears, the lines between truth and manipulation blurring in her own mind. “The team’s on their way,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Bruce, and cleared his throat. “Sorry I scared you.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” she said, “I’m more scared of Steve being disappointed in me than of you becoming the other guy.”

His laughter echoed.

X-x-X-x-X

Steve knocked on the open door and Nat waved him in without leaving her yoga pose. “Hey, Nat, have you seen my sweatpants?” he asked, and then broke off when he saw the logo on her hip. “Oh.”

“My pants are all skintight,” she said, completely unapologetic. “Turns out our hips are about the same width.”

“Bucky’s are similar to mine, I can borrow some of his,” he said.

“All right,” she said, and relaxed to standing.

“Is that Tony’s cashmere sweater?”

She glanced down at it. “Oh, yeah, that’s just because it’s soft, and loose enough that I can go braless. Don’t worry; I’ll have it washed by date night. He looks good in it.”

“That he does,” Steve agreed.

X-x-X-x-X

Being on a mission with Steve and Bucky was weird. Not only because they all remembered their attempts to kill each other not a year earlier, but also because. Well. Steve and Bucky were adjusting to being two of three while on their own. Natasha felt like a third wheel (fourth wheel? whatever) _again_. She’d gotten some mild chemistry vibes from Sam and Steve at Sam’s house, but those had settled back into friendship territory by the time they moved into Avengers Tower. And there were her years with Clint and Phil, and her time with Pepper and Tony, and that training session with Fitz-Simmons that had only been a few hours but felt like longer because of the typical tension of shiny new couples.

She called Sam and told him that, because Sam was good with feelings. “I don’t mind being single, but is there any way to keep it from becoming so _annoying_?”

“Well,” he said, and he was definitely trying not to laugh, damn him, “you could try finding it cute or endearing?”

“I don’t find things cute very often,” she said.

“You called Thor trying to understand BDSM cute last week,” Sam reminded her.

“Yes, and I met my ‘finding things cute’ quota.”

Sam laughed at that. “So characterizing Bucky’s hair in a bun as ‘sort of cute’ and Bruce’s ‘goddamn curls so goddamn adorable’, those were part of your quota too?”

“I was well on my way to tipsy that second time, you don’t get to count our talk from Single Ladies night. And don’t remind me you’re not a Single _Lady_ , because you love that song.”

Bucky and Steve were staring at her now, and she wiggled her fingers in a wave and said to Sam, “I have to go, my boys are jealous of you getting my attention.” And she totally had her phone’s camera ready for their indignant reactions.

X-x-X-x-X

Natasha stopped at the foot of the frankly gigantic bed and watched the three men sleeping there. Steve had slept on his side, stiff as a board, when they worked missions together. And he still did, but he relaxed slightly, arms curled around Bucky and one knee bent. Bucky still slept flat on his back, arms down at his sides, but Natasha had noted a significant decrease in the tense mornings after he had traumatic dreams. And Tony, Tony had almost entirely stopped retreating to his workshop and instead sprawled wildly across his two super-soldiers, snoring.

She hovered there for a moment, watching their faces twitch from dreams, and then nodded quietly to herself. She picked up the soft hoodie on her way out.

X-x-X-x-X

“Nat,” said Pepper. “You’re pacing.”

Natasha paused. “Sorry. Clint’s fault, really.”

“Which of your boys are you worried about?” Sam asked.

“Banner,” she said automatically. “Ross has influence in DC. Thor and Clint will protect him, of course, but they lack the subtlety and political finesse to deal with the sort of power-play Ross likes to pull.”

Pepper smiled at her and patted the bar. “Come on, let’s play matchmaker for him while we wait for news.”

“All right, here’s the list as it stands,” Natasha said.

_Brunettes – ambivalent (definitely not)_

_Blondes – ambivalent (not what he’s looking for)_

_Age – comparable (definitely within half+8 rule)_

_Interests – no preference (????)_

_Intelligence – preference for similar intelligence type_

_Personality – okay with not seeing me for extended periods of time (low-maintenance)_

_***Must know him already_

“Have you asked him about redheads?” Pepper asked.

Natasha arched her eyebrows. “Are you interested? I hadn’t considered you as a possibility, as you’ve never voiced attraction towards him.”

Sam rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and patted Pepper on the shoulder. “You run the math, I’ll take care of _that_ ,” he said.

“How often do you talk to Bruce, Natasha?” asked Pepper.

“Once a week on average in person, not counting missions and commons areas. Why?”

Sam returned with a hand mirror from the bathroom and handed it to Natasha, who took it and frowned at her reflection. Her hair was almost fire engine red under the bright lights of the bar area, but she didn’t see… “Wait. You think _I_ should pursue Bruce?” She asked.

“Pursue makes it sound like a mission,” Sam said.

“ _Woo_ Bruce,” said Pepper. “Natasha, he couldn’t make this list more obviously about you if he said things he looked for in a girl included her being a former Russian spy.”

Natasha nodded to herself. “I’ll think about it.”

X-x-X-x-X

Bruce was passed out under a pile of folders on the couch in the commons. Natasha paused on her way through and padded over to him. He didn’t even stir as she collected the folders, stacked them on the coffee table, and covered him with a throw blanket before putting his teacup in the sink.

X-x-X-x-X

Sam had found her in his bedroom one night a month or two ago, instantly guessed that she was reassuring herself of her teammates’ continued existence, and proceeded to suggest they have Singles Nights whenever Pepper had free time that coincided with their free time. He’d invited Bruce, but the man had cut him off at the start and told him he didn’t do well with groups.

X-x-X-x-X

Natasha liked Clint’s Official Comfy Happy Times Sweater. She liked wearing something that wasn’t built for sex appeal, or stealth, or protection, or maneuverability. Even if it was in a rather offensive shade of violet. She didn’t even have to steal it. She did anyway, because it was fun.

X-x-X-x-X

Natasha had liked Bruce for a while – she liked all her teammates, even the ones she hated – and found him adorable since they met, but she didn’t become attracted to him until she woke up with her head in his lap after he helped her detangle her hair and they marathoned Torchwood.

X-x-X-x-X

Honestly, she only stole Phil’s shirt to stay cool. And to make Cap blush, because he got really embarrassed when they wore his merch. And because she was on a mission with Clint and it was goddamn ridiculous that Phil couldn’t come. So his favorite shirt came instead.

The fact that it made Ms. Grey mutter about the Avengers being a PR hell was just a bonus.

X-x-X-x-X

On their trip back to the Tower, Nat explained to Clint her continued inability to get Bruce to make a move.

“Nah, see, the best way to woo your boo is to steal his clothes and make him food. Totally worked on Coulson.”

Natasha hummed. “That tea of his… what’re those cookies you make? The ones with the silly name?”

“Snickerdoodles,” Clint said.

“You’re making the dough,” she told him. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

X-x-X-x-X

Natasha had had a lot of morning afters. That was the first awkward one, because she and Clint were never awkward, and everyone else had involved mission objectives to consider.

“Um,” she said, after they’d both said hi at least five times. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said Bruce, and kissed her forehead.


End file.
